


Season 2 Episode 4

by etherimaginary



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: CY is awkward, Cafe AU, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, What else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherimaginary/pseuds/etherimaginary
Summary: Baekyeol cafe au drabble to get me back into the flow of writing. BH is a barista, CY is a student whose midterms have made him braindead. It be like that sometimes.





	Season 2 Episode 4

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO
> 
> Last year I started a baekyeol mermaid fic, then lost mojo and left it for a year to return to when i was feelin better. Cut to today where im in starbucks and i go to open it and my COmPUTER somehow DELETED THE ENTIRE THING. So. I just sat down and wrote this bc i wanted to write SOMETHIGN and also I felt bad bc i promised my friend the mermaid fic and now its dead. F in chat for the 25k words i wrote.
> 
> So enjoy this drabble. Its soft and simple but hopefully it makes you smile.  
Also the title comes from the song Season 2 Episode 3 by glass animals because I've been listening to it non stop and its kinda how I felt today and also the vibe I was tryna put into this fic. 
> 
> enjoy babes
> 
> also also I like barely proofread and edited this so there might be mistakes. I'm brainded too ya know

There was a certain ism to the way the barista crafted the drink, humming quietly to himself as he grinded the espresso beans, the sputtering cough of the machine all the more a growl against the soft notes that floated from the boy’s lips, scaling up and down in a way that suggested he was not humming a particular tune but rather letting the melody carry itself wherever it so chose.

Chanyeol stretched his neck left, right. Flexed his wrists. Shook out his fingers. He should be in his dorm, he should be in isolated silence, brain focused entirely on studying for his midterm, not sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair, the indistinct chatter of students and retirees slicing the taught lines of concentration required to read and reread notes and articles and textbook chapters.

Perhaps it was only fair that he should end up here, pretending to focus on his laptop screen, his eyes darting to the boy behind the counter whenever he felt he could steal a glance without being caught. Chanyeol had pulled far too many all-nighters in the last week, and the debt seemed to weigh upon his body, borrowed time clouding his mind and tying dumbbells to his eyelids. 

So he had come here, to the pitiful little café a mere nine minute walk- eight if he was already caffeinated- from his dorm, the excuse of needing coffee and noise and the presence of other people to keep him awake, help him focus. It was a good an alibi as any. 

“cAMP.” The word fell off his tongue lazily. “Activator of PKA. Secondary messenger of fight or flight.” The words were meaningless to his brain, fried as it was. He toyed with the empty cup on his table, considering getting another, and snuck another glance at the barista. The tag on his shirt read “Hi! My name is Baekhyun!” It was written in rainbow colours, the tiniest of hearts dotting each ‘i’. 

He figured he had two choices. He could give up on studying, spend the rest of the afternoon napping and eating the remainder of the Cheetos he knew were somewhere in his room. Or he could try to put in another hour or two of studying- although ‘another’ suggested that he already had put in an hour today, which he most certainly hadn’t. 

As it was, both options required him leaving, and he didn’t want to leave yet. He didn’t want to spend the remainder of his Sunday alone, didn’t want to make the nine- no, it would certainly be ten today- minute walk back to his dorm. He wanted something fun, something risqué, something that would dollop even a mere sprinkle of excitement onto the desert that had become his social life. 

Pushing himself back from the table, he shuffled towards the counter, pretending to be interested in the chalkboard menu, which was hand-written and nailed to the back wall in a way that suggested that the café sold kale scones and zucchini muffins other overpriced, gross-tasting healthy versions of foods that should never be healthy. 

It was only once he got to the counter that he realized he didn’t have a plan. Well, he _did_ but his plan was more along the lines of ‘be charming, tell a funny joke, ask the barista out on a date’ than anything actually concrete or useful. And when the boy looked up from cleaning the counter, the obligatory “hi, what can I get for you?” on his tongue, all planning- or lack thereof- went out the window. Chanyeol felt suddenly self-conscious, too aware of his disheveled, unshowered state, the dark circles that had made a home under his eyes. Had he remembered to brush his teeth this morning?

The sun caught in Baekhyun’s hair at this angle, the frizzy, slightly overbleached ends catching the light and creating something akin to a halo around his head. His lips were pink in a way that _had_ to be intentional, because there was no way anyone actually had lips that pink, and Chanyeol wondered if what he put on was flavoured, if it was cherry or strawberry, and although he didn’t really like cherry flavoured things he supposed he could make an exceptio-

“Hello? Sir?”

Chanyeol blinked a few times, face tinting when he realized he had been staring. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He looked back up at the menu, not reading the words. “Just a medium americano, please. One milk, three sugar.”

The smile returned to Baekhyun’s face. “No problem. That’ll be a dollar fifty.”

Chanyeol dropped his change into Baekhyun’s open palm, the boy dropping the coins into the register before moving toward the fat silver machine shoved up against the back of the counter. Chanyeol’s eyes followed his movements, darting away every time Baekhyun glanced up to see if he was watching. Which he was, but Baekhyun didn’t need to know that. 

“Here you go.” There was a lilt to Baekhyun’s voice, no doubt draped in the fake customer service cheer that was required in such a job. Chanyeol’s hand wrapped around the cup as it was handed to him, just barely brushing Baekhyun’s fingers. For a moment he simply stood there, the coffee too hot in his hand, his brain too slow on the uptake to realize that he was, again, staring for far too long than was socially acceptable. He needed a nap. His Monday classes didn’t start until ten, so if he went to bed as soon as he got home he could squeeze in a good sixteen hours of sleep and wouldn’t that be glorious. 

“Anything else I can get for you?” Baekhyun drew out the first syllable, hesitant yet clearly amused and the brain-dead student before him.

“A date?” The words escaped Chanyeol’s mouth before he could bite them back, and the moment he realized what he had said his eyes widened, tongue clumsy as it tumbled over words in a sad attempt of a cover up. “Like not the fruit or anything, I don’t even think I’ve actually eaten a- a date, and not like a day kinda date like not today or tomorrow like how those are called like dates but just like… a date, you know? Like you and me?” Baekhyun blinked in surprise, opening his mouth to respond before being interrupted by the remained of the word vomit that Chanyeol hadn’t yet all spewed out. “But only if you are like okay with it and want to, I know its totally an asshole thing to ask people out at work because they have to be polite and feel pressured but you can totally say no I won’t tell anyone it’s not rude or anything I won’t get you fired.”

The last word fell between them, a look of bemused puzzlement pulling Baekhyun’s eyebrows together, his lips tightening as he fought back a grin. “What’s your name?” He said after a moment, once it was clear Chanyeol was actually done talking.

“Chanyeol.”

“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand. “I’m Baekhyun.”

“I know.” Chanyeol took it, shaking it once. “It’s on your name tag.” He let himself relax as the other snorted a laugh, shaking his head slightly. Baekhyun let go of his hand- Chanyeol immediately missed the contact- to pull a sharpie out of his apron and scribble on a napkin.

“Here’s my number. I’m off at seven.”

“I won’t be awake then, probably.” Chanyeol took hold of the napkin, holding it tightly as if someone was going to try to snatch it from his hands. “But I will call you tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” 

Thanking him for the coffee, Chanyeol returned to his table, abandoning any hope he had about continuing studying, which really wasn’t hard, considering he had no hope in the first place. He packed up his things quickly, and called a goodbye to Baekhyun, who wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“Have a nice nap!” 

“You too!” Shit. Chanyeol send him an awkward smile, yanking open the door and nearly running face first into the chimes hanging from the frame. 

In his haste, he had simple piled all of his stuff into his arms, but Chanyeol paid it no mind, unaffected by the cumbersome mass of his laptop and textbooks and extra sweater clutched haphazardly against his chest, tumbling through his dorm door precisely seven minutes later.


End file.
